Seeing Double
by WoodenRed
Summary: A one-shot from Ginny's point of view during Fred's funeral. Post DH, of course. Meant for all those who hate Rowling, just a little bit, for killing off Fred!


_AUTHOR'S NOTE – I don't own anything._

_**SEEING DOUBLE**_

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

It was kind of like the time my Mum took me to St. Mungo's to visit my Uncle Charles. It was the first time I'd been to St. Mungo's. I was nine years old. Nine wasn't too young an age, I admit. I was old enough to know it's rude to stare at people however strange they looked. This was important in the Wizarding World because there were a lot of strange looking people in our world. But try as I might, I couldn't stop myself from ogling at the middle aged witch with Gurdyroots growing out of her ears or from gaping at the dazed looking Wizard who sneezed every ten seconds and turned purple every time he sneezed.

And George Weasley without Fred Weasley by his side was a bigger freak of nature than any of those things I saw in St. Mungo's that day. It would've been a funny sight if it hadn't been so heart-breaking.

It was as beautiful a day as we could've hoped for. It would've been a perfect day for a Weasley family Quidditch match. Bill and Charlie would become the captains as usual. Ron and Bill would be the Keepers on either side while Harry and Charlie would be the Seekers. Fred and George would be split up to play as Beaters. I would be the Chaser (usually in Bill's team because he picks first) while Percy and Hermione would be the Chasers in the other team.

It would've been an ideal day. It _could've_ been an ideal day.

Instead, it was the day of Fred's funeral.

_Fred's funeral. _The two words together sounded strange despite the fact that that was all I had thought about for the last three days. Bill and I had taken up the responsibility to plan the funeral. Mum hadn't gotten out of bed since the day after the Battle. The only thing Dad could do when anyone even mentioned Fred's name was shake his head and blink furiously as he said – 'No father should ever have to bury his own son.' Bill was the next in line. And I offered to help him.

Every day after the Battle, there had been at least three funerals a day of people we knew. Harry, Ron and Hermione went for each one of them. Kingsley told them to go because he thought seeing them would remind people that no one died in vain. As though that made death any easier to live with. I think they would've gone anyway. I couldn't get myself to go.

I went for Colin's funeral though. It was the first time I left the house since the Battle. I don't remember much about the funeral itself but I do remember what happened after. A few of us from the DA, Harry, Ron and Hermione included, decided to go to _Smokies_, the local pub for a few drinks. Exhausted and broken from the events of the last few days, even Hermione didn't protest. A few minutes after we entered, none of us could stand up straight. When we finally reached the Burrow that night, Percy opened the door.

"_Hey, Perce!" Ron had said, as he stumbled into the kitchen. _

"_Are you guys drunk?" Percy shrieked._

_I don't remember what Percy and Ron said to each other after that because I saw them sitting at the kitchen table. Fred and George sitting at the kitchen table drinking from their identical mugs. But even before the happiness could reach my brain from my heart I realized that there was something terribly wrong. Horribly wrong._

_Fred's ear was missing._

_I started screaming. They got up together. Not together like they usually did but exactly together. I finally realized I wasn't seeing Fred, I was just seeing double. Then I screamed and I screamed and I screamed because that was all I could do._

The next day I started planning Fred's funeral. I thought it would help me tell them apart. To think of it as Fred's something instead of Fred and George's something, it had to help. It was the only thing that could help. Because as bad as it was to lose Fred, it would be a million times worse to lose George with him, even as he was still breathing. For how could we bury Fred without burying George with him?

Losing one meant losing both.

Bill and I planned the funeral keeping in mind that this was one of the funniest people we would ever now. We wanted this to be a tribute to him, a celebration of his life rather than a mourning of his death. It's what he would've wanted. Bullocks, if you ask me now. How would any of us know how Fred would've liked his funeral?

In the end, it was an odd affair. We had put up posters of the _Weasley Wizard Wheezes._ Everyone was told to go up to the front and say a few words about Fred.

Everyone avoided George. Everyone except me. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

And so I stood there, staring at George, desperately hoping I would see something that would make this easier. Hoping that seeing him, single, would help me figure out what to say in front of all these people. Lee Jordan was at the front, saying his few words about Fred. He was crying so hard we could barely make out what he was saying. I was next.

Someone came to stand behind me. I felt someone's arms wrap around my stomach from behind, in a protective way, as though a pair of hands could stop me from falling into this abyss I could see in front of me.

Harry.

He pulled me closer. For a moment_, just for a moment_, I leaned on him and felt the weight slip. He started rocking me, as though I was a five year old who had just lost her toy broomstick. He was whispering something in my ear but I couldn't understand what he was saying. Then I remembered he was Harry Potter. He didn't need my weight to add to everything else he was carrying around. I stood up straight just as Lee Jordan took his seat.

I walked up to the front and faced the people who had come to say goodbye to my brother.

"I wish I wasn't standing here today. I wish none of us had to be here today. I'm sure all of you had better things you saw yourself doing rather than watching a bunch of people bawl their eyes out. I wish I was playing Quidditch instead."

Bill was looking at me wearily. Mum looked upset. Most of the people sitting looked confused. I knew I was saying all the wrong things. What _was_ the right thing to say at Fred's funeral?

I saw George again. He was sitting beside Neville. Seeing the two of them together brought back a memory I had forgotten long ago.

_My feet were aching from dancing all night. Neville stepping on them constantly hadn't helped matters either. I was walking back to the Gryffindor Tower. I could still hear the music playing in the Great Hall. The fourth years and above were allowed to stay up for the Yule Ball a little while longer._

_Just as I turned the corner, I saw a familiar figure leaning out of a window. Just as the moonlight hit his face I saw that it was George. I knew it was him because I had just seen Fred dancing with Angelina in the Great Hall. _

_He smiled when he saw me._

"_Hey Gin, did you have a good time tonight?"_

"_It was alright." I said._

"_Something wrong?" he asked, concerned._

"_It's nothing. Don't get me wrong, Neville's really nice but…"_

"_But what?"_

"_Nothing. Forget I said anything."_

"_He isn't Harry?"_

_I was shocked. I nodded slightly when I got over it._

"_It's ok, Gin. The guy's an idiot. These things get better, trust me." he said, putting his arm around me._

"_He only has eyes for that stupid hag, Cho Chang." I said bitterly._

"_Woah now, there's no need to take it out on her. It's not her fault, you know. I think he'll get over it."_

"_Why are you standing here all alone anyway?" I asked, wishing to change the topic, because clearly, as hard as he was trying, George was highly uncomfortable with the topic and he wasn't helping much anyway._

"_Fred and I got into a fight." he said, looking out of the window again._

"_Seriously? I had no idea you two ever fought!" I said._

"_Well, we did. We were supposed to be saving up, for the joke shop, you know? Instead the idiot spent all our money on dress robes for the Yule Ball. And he's taking Angelina to Hogsmeade after this."_

"_Oh. So you're really serious about the joke shop, huh?" I asked._

"_Yeah, that's all either of us has ever wanted to do."_

"_I'll save up too. You could have my money for the joke shop."_

_He smiled at me._

"_It's ok, Gin. I think you should get back before Filch sees you."_

"_Yeah, you're right. And George?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Could you not mention what I said about Harry to anyone? I don't want him to know."_

"_I won't mention it ever again."_

He never mentioned it to anyone. There, finally, I had a memory of George. Only George. It wouldn't all be over.

After that it was easier to stand up. It was easier to say goodbye to Fred, _just_ Fred. It was easier to look away from George and begin – "Fred was…"


End file.
